CAUTION... CAUTION... CAUTION... CAUTION... CAUTION...

STANDARD WARNING

This story is of an erotic nature.

I wouldn't dream of telling you what you can or can't read but if the law, in your part of the world, says you must not read this sort of fiction then please go read something that they'll let you.

Don't break the laws, change them.

CAUTION... CAUTION... CAUTION... CAUTION... CAUTION...


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Neptune

A Story in The Swarm Cycle Universe

by Duke of Ramus

A Piece of my Imagination

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The Swarm Cycle

The Swarm Cycle is a collection of stories manufactured around a concept introduced by the Thinking Horndog positing an alien invasion and Earth's reaction. The intent is for this to be a multi-author universe similar to the popular Naked In School stories. If you're a budding author of erotica or sci-fi and see something here that strikes your fancy, pop over to the Author's Page for more info on what's going on here and how to submit a story for this collection. The rest of you are probably here to read, so...

---oOo---

Disclaimer

This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental

© 2007 Duke of Ramus.

All rights reserved.

---oOo---

Credits

The Swarm Cycle Universe

Copyright © 2007 The Thinking Horndog

---oOo---

Editor

I'd like to thank Mulligan for his assistance in turning this into a better story than my initial effort, any errors remaining are of course mine.

---oOo---

Centurion David ap Rhys, his grey uniform distinctive amongst the Marine and Navy uniforms dotted around the room, was greeted by several of the women with happy smiles as he passed and, it must be admitted, by the odd scowl.

He meandered his way through the reclining couches and low tables to the back of the room and the bar, where a tall glass had appeared before he was half way across the room. He slid onto the corner stool and looked around; nothing appeared to be untoward so he returned his attention to the drink, the glass of which was covered in a fine layer of condensation, and the woman behind the bar who was waiting for him to speak.

"How's everything going Mandy?" he asked, his voice just loud enough to be heard over the background music and the chatting of the customers.

"Fine David, no problems at all," said Mandy as she allowed her own eyes to scan the room, noting which girls were hard at it and those that seemed to be coasting.

Like all buildings on the planet Trident this one had started off as several linked pods but in the past eighteen months it had been opened up to create a convivial atmosphere for the customers, predominantly visiting Marines, to go about their business.

In many ways it was typical of similar establishments everywhere, slightly garish colours -- but not as loud as some of the more extreme examples in Thailand -- muted to a certain extent by hanging swathes of soft fabrics. The background music was really the sound track to the porn films that were being shown on the various screens dotted around the room.

Perhaps the biggest difference was that this brothel was unisex -- not a fifty-fifty split admittedly -- but there was a selection of males as well as the normal bevy of delectable females from which the customers could take their pick. The sexual composition of the visiting Marine formations and the Navy ships crews had made that essential if the place was to be successful. The other real difference was that the customers didn't have to pay for the sexual services of the establishment. These were provided -- on the house -- by the Civil Service, though not the food and drinks that were also available.

Mandy leaned onto the bar, displaying her ample cleavage, and asked the Civil Service officer, "Have you heard how Sonia's doing?"

David smiled back at Mandy, who at forty- eight, was one of the oldest women in the building -- though you couldn't tell by simply looking at her. Her CAP score of six point four, besides being just below the cut- off point for volunteering, indicated that she had a brain in her pretty head. Back on Earth Mandy had run a catering business and had been extracted by her husband -- of all people -- on the same colony ship as David. When her husband had been killed in a stupid accident in training she'd become one of the first cases David had been required to deal with.

"Sonia is doing fine," said David, "the medics have got her blood sugars back under control and the baby appears to be fine." He sipped his drink, "They reckon it'll pop out in the next couple of days and I'm sure Sonia will bring him round for everyone to see," David said as he ran his finger through the condensation on the glass.

David had taken advantage of Mandy and her business sense and the need to accommodate about a dozen spare concubines he'd inherited on arrival in the Neptune system and had set up a holding pen, which had morphed -- originally -- into a guest house. Mandy had run the place with a rod of steel -- though often encased in velvet -- for David, and he'd had no complaints.

When visiting Marines had started to call on the concubines it germinated an idea and Mandy, who was fond of the occasional frolic herself, had taken that idea and run with it. The result had been beyond their wildest dreams. Now the brothel not only served the purpose of getting concubines pregnant, it also kept Marines out of trouble and turned a profit, so much so that David had recommended the idea to the Civil Service Organisation as one of the first things that CSO's should set up.

His train of thought was interrupted as a big busted, dusky woman undulated into view with only her hips covered by a very fine piece of orange lace. She was leading a young looking Marine off to one of the bedroom compartments at the rear of the establishments and, probably, an hour or two of unadulterated enjoyment for both of them.

"Is there anything else you need Mandy?" David asked, his eyes returning to his brothel manager.

"Not at the moment, though I'm keeping a special eye on a couple of the new girls," she said.

"Problems?" asked David, frowning.

"Not problems, just a little difficulty in attitude adjustment." Mandy shrugged, "It's probably why their sponsor dumped them in the first place, but they'll come round," she smiled at David, "or end up pregnant."

Pregnancy was one way out of the brothel business and David was always happy to remove a woman in that condition. The Civil Service had a barracks set aside to cope with pregnant women and their medical needs as well as a cr?he for the newly arrived kids. He'd found that after six months in that madhouse most women were more than happy to come back to work, even if it was on their backs.

"OK, just keep an eye on things and let me know if I need to do something about it for you," he said finishing off his drink.

---oOo---

Trident was the third planet of the Neptune system and had been a Confederacy colony world for a mere two years. Prior to that it had been mapped by the Confederacy but was of no interest to any of the member races and so had been ignored, simply being identified by a number. The third planet itself was benign and as such had very little to recommend itself if you wanted any sort of excitement.

It was lacking in the great mountain ranges and wild rivers that gave a planet character, its weather was so predictable that if it had been set up as a farming world you could have harvested two full crops a year. The oceans were not wide enough or deep enough to cause massive changes to the weather patterns and the almost circular orbit had failed to influence the weather. The planet didn't even have a satellite to provide the tidal surges that so many places on Earth were familiar with.

The system had only one real negative point, and that had proved to be a major hindrance to its growth even as a human colony and that was its galactic position -- it was situated right on the edge of the path that the Sa'arm were following. Why a colony world had been put here was a point that was debated by those who were privy to the information, whenever they got together but no real answer had been forthcoming.

Yes it did have advantages for troop and ship deployments but it had to be expected to be invaded in short order, which probably accounted for the lack of infrastructure development taking place. The Navy had a minimal repair and re-provisioning facility in orbit around Neptune eight, a gas giant way out from the local G2 star. That was all ship based and as such they could pick up and run at the first sign of danger and that was the standing orders the Navy operated under.

…Which is more than can be said for the local Marines...

Trident was the home base for a Marine regiment, each of its three battalions being associated with a township on the planet. These three townships formed a pyramid around the headquarters and spaceport complex, which also housed David ap Rhys and the small Civil Service encampment he represented.

The total human population of the planet had reached twenty five thousand or there abouts and then, well short of the original projections of a hundred thousand, it had stopped growing. The consensus of opinion was that somebody had got sensible and decided that throwing away breeding stock just to feed the Sa'arm was not a good plan and had done something about it.

The three battalions of the Marine Regiment spent most of their time hitting Sa'arm incursions in penny packets, an annoyance to the oncoming aliens rather than a full-blooded attempt to stop their invasion.

When David ap Rhys had been dropped on the planet he'd arranged for his home to be positioned close to the headquarters and not as part of one of the towns. This had originally caused a little hardship for his concubines but had allowed him to be associated with the whole regiment and not any one particular battalion. Over time his own house had grown to five pods, two of which were set up as temporary accommodation for any spare concubines he was forced to look after -- concubines who really should have been taken care of by their owners before they went off to battle and not just left to fend for themselves when things went wrong.

---oOo---

David sighed, none too quietly, as he cooled his heels in the administration office of the Second Battalion. His appointment with Major Helios, the newly arrived deputy commander of the Second Battalion, had been for fourteen hundred and he'd already been kept waiting for twenty minutes. His temper, never his best attribute, was starting to fray around the edges and he knew it -- petty bureaucracy and empire building had always had this effect on him and it would appear that Major Helios was out to build himself as big an empire as he could manage.

This interview was the same one he had with every battalion commander and his -- or her -- deputy that came through the place, as well as any other figure he could find in a position of authority. Time had shown that he had the best results when speaking to the non-commissioned officers, rather than those who were supposed to lead, but he felt he had to go through the motions for his own sense of purpose if nothing else.

"Centurion," the desk sergeant called, "Major Helios will see you now." David couldn't help it, his eyes glanced to the wall clock and back to the Sergeant, who had the grace to look embarrassed but could only respond to David's taunts by shrugging his shoulders.

"Thank you, Sergeant." David said, half smiling in apology before rising to his feet and following the man down the corridor to the last office on the left.

"Centurion ap Rhys, Sir," said the Sergeant who stepped aside to let David enter the office.

Major Helios, his dark hair and olive complexion hinting at a Latino background, remained seated as David entered the office, another not-so-subtle snub to the man who had the equivalent rank to the Major. The Sergeant, perhaps sensing an ensuing explosion, beat a hasty retreat, closing the door quietly as he did so.

David, looked around and moved over to a comfortable looking chair against one wall and stood by it and didn't say a word, waiting for the Marine Major to make the next move.

The Major scowled, "Centurion, I really don't have time to be social right now so if you could state your business it will let me get back to running the battalion," he said glancing at the papers strewn across his desk.

David bit back a retort and sat in the seat, taking a moment to control himself before beginning his sales pitch, a pitch he really didn't have any faith in. "Major all I'm after is a little bit of co-operation from yourself in regards to the troops under your command and their concubines."

Major Helios began fiddling with his pen, clearly not interested in whatever the Centurion had to say.

"To put it simply," David said, barely trying to keep the implication that the Major was simple from his voice, "I would like you to have your troops leave a will stating what is to happen to their concubines when they die."

The Major stopped him, "I do not encourage my soldiers to think of dying and in the event that they should fall doing their duty," he sneered at the grey uniform, "then the battalion will take care of their spouses."

"Wrong!" stated David firmly, "They are not family, they're property and if the sponsor does not leave clear instructions with the colony AI as to their disposal then they become the property of the Civil Service. Major, that includes YOUR concubines, so unless you want them working in the garrison brothel you need to think about what you want done with them!"

"Get out of my office," stormed Major Helios, rising to his feet. "Don't go suggesting that you'll get your filthy hands on my women, I won't let you," he said, gesticulating wildly.

David, shaking his head, more at his own stupidity than the Majors predictable reaction, stood and calmly left the office, restraining himself from slamming the door as he did so. The Major's vilification following him loudly down the corridor, causing various Marines to look away so as not to get involved.

As he was passing an office close to the administration office a voice called out, "Excuse me Sir, do you have a moment?"

David snapped his eyes to his right and recognised the Battalion Sergeant Major, he changed direction and went to the chair the Sergeant Major indicated before dropping down and letting out a huge sigh.

"As bad as that, Sir?"

David raised an eyebrow, "You couldn't hear, Sergeant Major?" he asked. "I think you better get off to the medics and have a check up," he finished with a smile.

"So that was you, I thought someone had fucked up and annoyed the Major."

"Oh I did THAT, Sergeant Major. I allowed my own feelings to get in the way of doing the job properly and that's always a mistake," countered the Centurion.

"Sounded like it, I'll agree Sir, but I wouldn't worry about it too much," consoled the Sergeant Major. "I've had a word with most of the seniors and it seems that just about everyone has left some sort of instructions as to the disposal of their family if they don't get back."

"That's good, and I'm thankful for your help. I just wish I could get the powers-that-be to make it a mandatory requirement for all troops. It would save an awful lot of messing about when things go wrong." David looked the Sergeant Major in the eye, "And no matter how I try to treat the concubines as possessions they're really people and when their sponsor dies they are upset -- distraught in some cases -- and having to treat them like meat doesn't do a lot to help anyone."

"I know, I've seen what it's like after a bad mission and I wouldn't have your job for all the perks the guys think you've got," agreed the senior non-com.

The pair stood and shook hands before David headed off, mission accomplished, after a fashion.

---oOo---

The voice in his head summoned him, "Centurion," the AI called softly.

David, who'd been totally relaxed in the arms of Megan, his favourite concubine, raised his head. "Yes."

"Your presence is requested at the Regimental Headquarters, as soon as is convenient."

"Who made the request and was any reason given?" David asked.

"The request came from Sergeant Major Osgood who gave no reason for the summons," replied the AI.

Sergeant Major Osgood was the Regimental Sergeant Major, for him to be making the request meant it had to be something significant. That it asked him to report to the Regimental Headquarters rather than somewhere private implied it was official. Big and official did not bode well, thought David as he swung off the bed and reached for his uniform jacket.

Taking one look at his expression Megan started to rise, "Is there a problem, David?"

"Possibly," he replied, "No, make that probably, though I don't know what." He pondered for a moment then, "You'd better get everyone ready for business, just in case," he said.

David had used his own concubines as nurses and agony aunts whenever he'd need the help. The lack of official support for the Civil Service had made this necessary, in the same way that he used Mandy and her business experience in running the brothel -- needs must -- as they say.

Dressed, David made the short walk from his home to the headquarters building. As he approached he became aware of the number of windows showing lights, far more that you'd expect at this time of night. The guard on the building, looking sombre, just waved him through, clearly affected by what had been going on inside.

As soon as he entered the concourse he became aware of the buzz around the place, that sense that something untoward was happening. An Ensign spotted him and detached himself from the reception desk and approached, coming to attention and saluting. An unusual occurrence for David, who as a non-combatant was largely ignored but one he acknowledged in like manner.

"Centurion, I've been asked to escort you to the briefing room, if you'll come this way," the new Ensign said. Without waiting for a response the Ensign turned and headed off towards the elevators. David, his mind more on filtering the events around him than on where he was going, followed along. Whatever had happened was substantial that was for sure.

The door before him opened and he entered a briefing room, about a dozen Marines -- mostly officers -- were standing around, conversing in subdued tones. As soon as he entered the room the Regimental Sergeant Major detached himself from the two people he was talking to and came over.

"David, we may have some work for you," he said by way of greeting.

David raised an eyebrow in question and said, "Some?"

Tom Osgood nodded towards the holographic display in the centre of the briefing room before continuing. "We've been running a series of hit and run operations against a Sa'arm incursion." David nodded, this was common knowledge anywhere on the planet. "Well it looks like one of them has gone sour," the Sergeant Major finished.

David looked around, identifying the officers present and doing some thinking. The Regimental commander and his Operations officer, the Second Battalion commander, his Executive Officer -- the same Major Helios that David had had a run in with only a couple of days ago -- and their Operations officer but no other battalion staff. Ergo it was a Second Battalion operation that had gone sour.

"Just how bad, Tom?" he asked, bracing himself for the answer.

"We've lost contact with the Sir Agravaine, and the two cruisers that were accompanying the ship, the Munster and Manchester, have both reported taking heavy damage."

The Sir Agravaine was a Lancelot class troop transport designed to carry a full company of Marines. David swallowed, "I take it no one is in position to look for survivors?"

"No, the Navy is to busy running for its life." Tom Osgood glanced once more at the holographic image, "The task force arrived in system at the same time as a Sa'arm hive ship, the vectors were all wrong and they couldn't avoid contact. The Cruisers managed -- barely by the sound of it -- to smash a way through but the Sir Agravaine didn't make it. Looking at the time scales involved I doubt if they had chance to transport anybody off either." He looked the Civil Service officer in the eye, "It would appear that we've just lost the whole of C Company, all one hundred and fifty four of them, in a single monumental fuck up."

"Oh Shit," muttered David.

The Sergeant Major returned to the small group he'd been with and David drifted to one side of the room. Quietly, sub-vocalising, he consulted the AI, "Subject Charlie Company, Second battalion, how many members of the company had made living wills that are still operable assuming all members of the company are deceased?"

The AI played a hum, the equivalent of the old 'on hold' music as it dealt with his question. "Centurion, allowing that the crew of the Sir Agravaine are also casualties, there are six living wills in effect. This leaves four hundred and fifty-four concubines, along with forty-eight children and eighty-three foetuses that become the property of the Civil Service."

"Fuck!" exclaimed David, which got him a few glares, but unaccounted-for outbursts where common ever since the human race had started talking to AIs and most people just ignored these comments. For the next hour he attempted to get things organised for when the military officially accepted that they'd lost a company and he had to deal with the fall-out.

A concerted movement got the Centurion's attention away from his internal conversations with the AI and he stood up when the Regimental Colonel approached him, flanked by various other officers.

"Centurion," the Colonel greeted David, "I'm making it official, we're posting C Company, Second Battalion as missing in action. Everything points to them being dead so the AIs will hand over the deceased troops' households to you as necessary." The Colonel, looking as though he'd lost his own son, not just a group of men he'd vaguely known, asked, "Is there anything we can do to help?"

David bit his tongue about living wills, now clearly wasn't the time to push the matter. "I've consulted with the AI, Sir, and if you can allocate Hanger G3 to me, along with a couple of the field kitchens and their replicators, I should be OK in the short term." David pushed his fringe out of his eyes, "There may be other things later but not at the moment, Sir."

Major Helios jumped in, by passing his own commander in the process. "Colonel, can't the battalion look after the men's families? At least keep them in their homes for now, if nothing else."

The Colonel turned and looked the Major over, his expression clearly saying that the Major had just stood in it big time. "Major, the Battalion, the Regiment even, does not have the social network that the regular forces back on Earth used to have so there is no way we can look after the 'possessions'," he emphasised, "of our troopers. The pods they're in at the moment, their homes, respond to the commands of the sponsor, not the concubines. With the sponsor dead those pods will shut down over a forty-eight-hour period until they are re-allocated to another sponsor. Nothing can be done about that."

The Colonel nodded towards David, "The Civil Service, here, will ensure that the concubines are housed and fed, albeit at a basic level, until such time as their disposal can be arranged. This may not be the ideal solution but it is the one that applies and it was clearly stated in your position brief when you joined the Regiment, so you should have been aware of it." With that the Colonel turned his back on the red faced Major and addressed David.

"That hanger is yours, as are the kitchens. Look after these people, Centurion, please," the Colonel said.

David, feeling only a slight tinge of enjoyment at the discomfort heaped upon Major Helios, saluted the Colonel and prepared himself for a very busy, and fraught, time to come.

---oOo---

David took in the appearance of the hanger with a grimace, its grey concrete walls and the metal decking that made up the mezzanine floor were as depressing as the Centurion's feelings. So far the concubines hadn't been informed of their sponsors' disappearance, though rumours had started to circulate through the Regiment. He and the work party the Regiment had provided were working to produce a space that was at least habitable, if not comfortable, in the minimal time available.

Already the field kitchens had been assembled and positioned at either end of the hanger space and sufficient field sanitation had been piped in to accommodate the five hundred plus people who would soon be calling this desolate grey building home.

What David was going to do with them was another matter, and one he could only think of in moments of idleness for now. His sombre mood was lightened by the arrival of his own concubines, with Megan in the lead as usual. They gathered around him and waited to see what he wanted them for.

"Morning," he said by way of greeting, and even that sounded sombre to his ears. "I don't know if any of you have heard, but there has been a glitch out on operations," He paused, "No, not a glitch, more of a fucking disaster." His concubines started at his sudden use of bad language.

"The whole of C Company, the Second battalion is being reported as missing," again he paused, "which is another way of saying they're dead but we haven't got the bodies."

David waited as the shock of his announcement rippled through his concubines, then watched as slowly they all looked back at him. "That's the bad news, the really bad news is that very few of the company had made provision for their concubines which means I get the lot of them. Very soon this," he waved his arm around, "will be home to five hundred and two men, women and children who have just lost everything they thought they had."

"We've been through this every time someone dies -- but never on this scale -- and whilst we've been able to offer extras to those who we've looked after in our own home we won't be doing anything like that here. That means the concubines here are going to be on basic rations, minimal entertainment and only getting the bare essentials replaced." He paused, "I'm sure you're all aware of what sort of shock that this is going to be to most of these people and how they're likely to react."

David took a breath to calm down and lowered his voice, which had begun to rise. "I'm not going to be able to be very forgiving," he stated, holding their attention. "In fact I'm fairly sure that before the week is out I'm going to have to kill someone to maintain discipline." That simple statement was greeted with shock, they knew that a sponsor could do this if he wished but they'd never consciously accepted that David could do it to any concubines in his care.

"You," said David indicating all of his family, "are going to be acting as the interface between the concubines and me. I want you to deal with any problems they have in the same way that we have before but if anyone -- and I do mean anyone -- gives you trouble you send them to me to deal with, do you understand?"

An affirmative chorus greeted that statement; everyone understood his message loud and clear and if they didn't do as he'd said then it would be them that were in trouble and they knew it.

"Megan, there's an old store room over in the far corner, I want you to use that as an improvised classroom and keep all the kids in there while we deal with the initial fallout."

David half turned, "Daniella, you take the kitchen at that end, Jodie you've got the other one," he said to the two former waitresses. "As soon as you can hand over responsibility to one of the concubines do so and get out of the way."

"Sylvia, Fliss, Charlotte, you three are the front people. Divide the place up into three and each of you run a section. Kathy, you're momma-in-chief for anything that these three can't handle, it comes to you and you stomp on it, only passing it on to me if it really can't be handled. Stew, you're the riot control force, get a stinger and stun anyone who gets out of hand," David glanced upwards, "AI, acknowledge that instruction and my authorisation to proceed," he said.

David paused until the AI had agreed to his highly unusual command and then gathered his family together. "This is not going to be much fun, they're going to be upset at losing loved ones and then angry at being thrown out of their homes. We are going to be the easiest target to hit out at, especially when they can't have everything they want. So stay alert and at the slightest sign of trouble get out of the way and scream for help, literally if need be. Everyone understand?"

The family all nodded their understanding, "Good, now go home and put on the grey uniforms, grab a meal and get back here," he said dismissing them for the moment. The uniform he'd told them to put on was a replica of his own but fitted with Warrant Officer insignia, totally unofficial and with no authority but as no on really knew what the Civil Service was all about no one would know. David had figured that the uniforms would help keep some of the concubines in line and his own family safe, which was all that mattered when he'd had the uniforms made; now he'd find out if they were of much use.

---oOo---

"Tom, have you got a minute," David asked, using the AI controlled communications net to place the call.

"Sure Centurion, what can I do for you?" the Sergeant Major asked.

"Do you happen to know if C Company had a social organisation of any sort, you know, a wives' club or entertainment committee, that sort of thing?"

"Hang on a sec, I've got Bob Oldendorf here, he's Second Battalion's Sergeant Major, he should know."

The line in his head went quiet for a short while then, "David, Bob tells me that they did and the First Sergeant's senior bitch ran it, her name's Wendy."

"Great Tom," David paused for a moment before asking, "Have they been told yet?"

"About half an hour ago," replied the Sergeant Major, "we're just waiting for the fallout to start. Are you ready over there?"

"It looks like it but we'll only find out when we have to start dealing with the concubines. See you later," David finished the call.

Glancing around at his family and David nodded, "They've been told," was all he said.

"Stew," David said, singling out the only other male in his family, "Get on to the AI and find out where the C Company First Sergeant lived. Get over there and grab one of his women by the name of Wendy and get her back over here as quick as you can will you."

David turned to the women, "OK, I'm hoping that we only get a steady trickle but if things go pear-shaped just push people into corners and make them sit down, and remember what I said -- stay safe, I don't want to have to replace you."

The only one who had anything to do was Megan, who had the families' children in the improvised classroom already, the rest of the concubines just stood around and worried as they waited for something to happen.

Stuart entered the hanger quietly accompanied by a tall brunette in a short, charcoal grey skirt and white blouse and, given the way her more than ample bust moved, it was clear that she wasn't wearing a bra.

Stuart pointed to the group and stopped by the door letting the brunette cross the hanger on her own under the eyes of David and his family. As she drew near it was obvious from the puffiness around her eyes that she'd been crying but her face also held a hint of determination, a strength of character that could prove useful in the coming few days.

"Wendy?" asked David as she reached his group, stepping forward.

"Yes Sir," the brunette answered.

"I assume you have some idea of what's going to happen now?" he asked, hoping that he wouldn't have to go into too many of the gory details.

"Yes Sir, I belong to you until I'm reassigned," she said with total resignation and a little sadness.

"Wendy, it would be bad enough if it was just you, but it's not. It's every concubine and child that belonged to C Company, that's over five hundred of you," he paused, letting the enormity of the event sink in through her own sadness, "Wendy, you ran the families group for the company, you're someone the others will recognise and respond to," said David. "I want you to help us get everyone through this as easily as possible. Will you do that for me, please -- help us to help everyone else?"

Wendy looked around, pondering who knows what, before returning her eyes to the man in the grey uniform before here. "How bad is it going to be?" she asked.

"Very," the stern looking man said, clearly pulling no punches in his assessment.

"Do you really think I can make a difference?" she asked, a hint of hope in her voice.

"I'd like to think so," the man said, "In truth I really hope that you can. The last thing we all need is for some of the concubines to get hurt because of things that really should have been avoidable."

Wendy considered a little longer before nodding slowly, "I'll help," she said. "What do you want me to do?" she asked.

David let out a huge sigh, "Get together with Kathy here and her girls and identify who the concubines are that people listen to. We'll split everyone up into smaller groups and put those you identify in charge -- that way we won't need eyes in the back of our heads to spot trouble." David looked around, "Then we'll pull in small groups of concubines, brief them and then allocate them a space within the hanger and, hopefully, get everyone relocated before they explode on us."

Wendy looked at David and frowned, "You're really expecting trouble, aren't you?" she asked.

"Unfortunately I'm working from experience," said David, "You tend to find that concubines think they belonged with a sponsor and when that relationship breaks down, for whatever reason, they become a free person, able to do what they want, when they want. Unfortunately this isn't the case."

He looked Wendy in the eye and saw her nod slowly as she began to see where he was going. "That, as I'm sure they know intellectually at least, isn't the case but that doesn't stop a few of them, especially those with low CAP scores, from being stupid. Normally I can deal with the odd concubine going off the rails when there's only a couple of other concubines involved but I cannot let anything like that go in a situation like this with so many people involved."

"You mean...?" she said.

"Yes," David said, nodding, "If someone goes trundling down that route and you lot," he waved his hand to include all of his concubines as well as Wendy, "can't stop them, then I will have to. And that will probably mean killing them," he finished bluntly.

Wendy swallowed hard then turned towards the other concubines, "Kathy, I think you need to get hold..." The group of women slowly drifted away leaving David stood there all alone, surrounded by an air of melancholy.

---oOo---

It had been a day and a half and so far things had been going reasonably well, all things considered. David -- once he'd done the initial briefing -- had managed to avoid being involved in the decision making process by the simple expedient of using his concubines and the committee members of the families club to run things. He'd actually been forced to slap down a couple of the older lads -- one of them physically -- when they'd objected to being put in the classroom with the other kids but that was the most serious incident to date.

It appeared, judging by the noise coming from the group surrounding Kathy and Wendy, that things were taking a turn for the worse. David slowly drifted across the hanger floor -- making his way towards the noisy group -- listening as he did so, his approach cautious, ready for trouble.

"Look you stupid bitch," a raised male voice in the middle of the group said, "you're not my sponsor, you're not even a volunteer, so don't go telling me what I can and can't do."

"Sir," said Kathy, her voice sounding calm but David -- who knew her well -- could clearly tell she was under pressure. "As a concubine, you are not entitled to alcoholic drink; that is one of the luxuries that only a sponsor can provide and as you don't have a sponsor at this time it is not available to you."

"Fuck off cunt," the man said with a snarl, "if I can't get a drink then I quit," he stated.

Looking at Kathy he demanded, "What are you going to do about that?" Although the man didn't actually do it David could sense the arms being folded across the chest and a look of disdain crossing the face.

David chose that moment to join in the argument, "She won't do anything," he stated, "I will."

On hearing his voice a pathway cleared between the Centurion and the angry man. "You are entitled to quit -- as you so quaintly put it -- but if you do you will be surplus to requirements and will then be recycled." The nasty grin David fastened on the man clearly gave him a clue that something untoward was happening.

"What d'you mean, recycled?" the man asked, nervously.

"Precisely that," said David, still smiling, "you will be added to the other compost and be recycled through the ecological system. Your body will be of some use to the colony even if you're not."

As they were talking David saw Stuart arrive on the opposite side of the crowd, his stinger in plain sight. "So make a decision asshole, shut up and do as you're told or quit, I really don't care which."

David waited, his eyes never leaving the loudmouth's face, almost daring him to call the bluff. In many ways David did want that, his assessment was that the gene pool wouldn't really miss this guy and it would be a clear example to anyone else who was feeling a little rebellious of what would happen if they got out of line.

'Bingo!' thought David as the guy's eyes narrowed, "Fuck you," he said, "I quit."

"Stew," was all David said, and the loudmouth was quivering and dropping to the floor, hit from behind by the stinger; he didn't even have time for a final scream, which is more than can be said for the surprised women in the group.

"Help me get him up," David said and a dozen hands dragged the unconscious man upright. David stooped slightly and dropped the unconscious body over his shoulder before heading off to the nearest kitchen area and, everyone was sure, the recycling machines that handled food waste.

David didn't like killing a defenceless man, even if he'd bought it upon himself, but he'd been steeling himself for this task ever since the destruction of the company had become common knowledge. The recycling bins fed the replicators with the raw materials used in the replication process, the nearer the raw material was to the finished product the simpler and more energy efficient the process was. On the small machines the recycling bin was an opening the size of a mans hand, on these industrial size machines it was a hole three metres on a side.

David rested the body on the lip of the hopper and fished out the man's ID card, then without any ceremony, pushed him backwards and let him drop into the machinery. Nothing was heard as the man was sliced and diced as the whole machine was surrounded by a damping field.

Tucking away the ID card with the name of Paul Knowles on it, the grey clad Centurion returned to a very subdued hanger. No one watching could tell what he felt as his thoughts where hidden behind an impassive mask; one thing was for sure though -- nobody was going to be calling his bluff any time soon.

---oOo---

David ushered the family into their pod based home for the first time in three days, all of them exhausted from the physical hard work and emotional trauma they'd been through. Stuart -- as he usually did -- headed straight for the bar, which had been one of the first things that David had had installed, and started pouring drinks, knowing what each member of the family would want from long experience.

Daniella and Jodie were stripping off their unofficial grey uniforms as they headed for the room that they shared with Megan. "Food will be up in twenty minutes," shouted Daniella as she and the other former waitress disappeared through the door.

Megan, with the experienced help of ten-year-old Tracy, gathered the children together and led them to the pod that was used as the combined nursery and bedroom for all seven of the children. Only Devon kicked up a fuss and once he'd given his mother a goodnight kiss he followed along happily enough. David watched Tracy and wondered how long it would be before she wanted to be treated as a grown up, just looking at how she was developing it couldn't be far off.

Shaking off his apathy he stripped off his own uniform jacket and slumped down in his favourite recliner before looking around at the family and wondering how they were bearing up. Kathy had been particularly hard hit, having to act as the final buffer between the often-distraught concubines and his final authority. He crooked his finger at her and drew her onto his lap as the others found places to rest and generally relax around him.

Letting out a gentle sigh Kathy asked, "What are you going to do with them now?"

Running his fingers through her hair he noticed that the rest of the family were listening for his answer. "I'm not sure," he said. "In theory I could just hand them out to the rest of the regiment but that isn't really practical. There are too many of them to go down the brothel route and I can't think of anywhere off planet to send them, unless you consider sending them back to Earth, which is pointless."

He paused to nuzzle into the compliant woman's neck before resuming his answer, "At the moment I guess I'm stuck with them in that hanger. Just to keep things ticking over I'll have to get the men to work their way through the women, trying to get them pregnant but I doubt if any of them will find that satisfactory. Really, I'm open to any suggestions you can make," he concluded looking around.

He was greeted by universal blank looks; none of them had contemplated a disaster on this scale and were bereft of ideas. The strained silence that followed was finally broken by a yell from the kitchen area of 'dinner is served' and the family filtered through to the comfortable dining area, drinks in hand.

David had sent messages off on the Hyperlink to all the other Civil Service Officers to see what they could suggest but no one had come back to him yet. He knew of no other CSO who'd faced this level of crisis so he wasn't hopeful of getting a constructive answer. The short conversation he'd had with the AIs had not been very constructive, their position being that a non-breeding concubine was a waste of resources and should be culled -- not a task he particularly agreed with or could openly sanction.

Hopefully time would provide a better solution.

---oOo---

In the three weeks since the Second Battalion's Charlie Company had been wiped out the planet of Trident had been bathed in despondency and gloom which -- almost miraculously -- had been lifted by an operational deployment order which sent the Marines into battle. Confederacy Intelligence had spotted a minor deployment from the very hive that had crushed their fellow Marines and the Regiment had received an Op Order that gave them the task of eradicating this new incursion.

The excitement engendered by this operation had even filtered through to the Civil Service hanger, lifting a very real sense of gloom that had been getting progressively worse since the news of the disaster had been released. A sense of gloom that hadn't been helped by the treatment that had been inflicted on the concubines who'd already lost their sponsors, homes and in a lot of cases, hope.

Despite the best efforts of David, his concubines and various other people who were helping out, there had been two suicides on two consecutive days, which had contributed to the rapidly falling morale of the displaced concubines. The first to go had been Alison Harvard -- who'd managed to hang herself -- and then John Barker who in rather spectacular fashion managed to throw himself into the same recycling bin that David had dumped the earlier body in. Only the damping field and the prompt actions of the first two women on the spot had prevented this incident degenerating into something much worse.

David was at a loss as to what he could realistically do to improve things and when the deployment was announced had grasped the information as if it was a life-belt and had been pushing the revenge aspects as hard as he could. It seemed to have helped the concubines a little.


Meanwhile the Regiment was starting final preparations for the deployment.

A Regiment was not normally considered to be a manoeuvre unit within the Marines, it was more of an administration organisation than a fighting force. However, in this case, it was decided that more than one battalion was needed for the operation and bringing other battalions in from elsewhere would be a waste of transport resources, so the Regiment was designated as a Brigade and tasked with the mission.

This higher level of command jumped the Colonel, who administered the Regiment, to the position, if not the rank, of Brigadier. It required a change in mindset for the whole of the headquarters element -- a change that bought with it a certain amount of strain and confusion as people adapted to roles that they hadn't envisaged filling at this point in their careers.

In the skies above Trident the Navy had started gathering together the necessary tonnage to lift the three battalions to the operational area. Ten of the latest Tarawa class Assault Landing Ships had been allocated to the operation alongside a dozen of the older and smaller Sir Lancelot class. To support the ground assault the Navy was bringing in two of the Midway class light carriers that carried the interface capable attack fighters crewed by Marine pilots.

Two of the large President class fleet carriers were also joining the battle group to provide fleet defence with their space based fighter squadrons. The escort groups for these two immense ships included half a dozen cruisers and more than a dozen lighter vessels as well as a contingent of unarmed support vessels. From all over Confederacy space there were freighters -- large and small -- heading to the Neptune system carrying all manner of raw materials, ammunition and other military supplies to support the Regiment and its operation. For a time Neptune was going to be one of the busiest volumes of space in the known galaxy.


"Centurion," the AI spoke in David's head.

"Yes."

"Your presence is required at the Regimental headquarters in an hour's time."

"Did they give a reason?"

"No reason was given, Centurion."

David's first thought was, 'what has gone wrong now?' -- but he quickly realised that if there was a problem he'd be wanted now, not in an hour. He continued his inspection of the hanger and was amazed at how quickly its appearance had been changed.

Extruded sheets had been used to divide the open areas into cubicles, which had rapidly become festooned with the knick-knacks that the concubines had bought with them from their former homes. The item most noticeable by its absence in these cubicles was the projection equipment that delivered the entertainment broadcasts, an item that was classified as a luxury and so not available to concubines. David had installed a larger version of the equipment in one of the canteen areas but that could only display one of the several hundred channels at a time. Only his threat to remove the kit had stopped the loud and at times potentially violent arguments that had sprung up over its use.

He, and -- he was sure -- most of the concubines, had not realised how many of the things that they'd been taking for granted had only been available because their sponsors had allowed it. Entertainment and alcohol were the most obvious ones but things like clothing, other than the plain grey smock, and speciality foods were also unavailable. The biggest restriction on the concubines was the refusal of the AIs to open the doors to the hanger and allow them to move around freely outside. Only those granted express permission by David had that option and he'd used it sparingly outside of his own concubines and the six women that made up the committee overseen by Wendy.

David had allowed Megan to provide the children with pretty much anything they wanted, within the classroom, but she was expressly forbidden from allowing anything to leave the room. As a consequence the children were about the only ones who were actually happy with the current situation - 'a situation that may be about to change,' David thought, as he took a slow walk towards the headquarters building and whatever it held.

---oOo---

David was met as he entered the headquarters building by Tom Osgood, the Regimental Sergeant Major. "Centurion," he said with a smile, "How's it going over there?"

"Not too bad," David replied. "Most of the people have now accepted their change in status and are making the best of things, though we still get the odd problem. Did you hear about the two who suicided?"

"Yes, I heard. To be honest I'm surprised that's all that you've lost."

David looked enquiringly at the senior NCO.

"Back on Earth, after the crap in Iraq, we lost a few of the family members, often the older children, when their dads didn't come back. Your lot have had a much greater shock and are a long way from home, so only losing two is a good sign that you're doing a good job."

"Thanks, I think," said David with a wry smile. "Anyway, what am I here for now?"

"The Colonel wants to see you. He's been on at the Battalion Commanders about living wills and the like and wants to brag a little and see if there is anything else he should be doing," said Tom as he led the way to the Colonel's office.

"Centurion, take a seat," said the Colonel from behind his desk, "how are things going with C Company's families?"

"About as well as can be expected," said David as he sat himself. "So far, anyway. I'm still waiting to see what is going to happen to them in the long run."

"I'm glad to hear that things are going so well," said the Colonel. "I've also been giving the idea of living wills my backing, quite forcefully really. I've had my battalion commanders doing the same, emphasising that the concubines need to be taken care of and that means outside the immediate platoon or company structure. So far, I'm told, about seventy percent of the men have left a will stipulating the disposal of their concubines."

He looked over at David, "I hope these things are not needed but after they saw what happened to the families now in your hands most of the men are beginning to see the point you were making." He smiled, "Even Major Helios has dictated a will disposing of his women if he doesn't come back."

David realised that the Colonel obviously knew about his run in with the Major.

"How long will the Regiment be away, Sir?"

"We're looking at three months for the actual mission, add in the travelling time and it's going to be closer to four before the first of the guys get back."

"And how many men will be staying behind, Sir?" David asked.

"Not many," said the Colonel, "Just about everyone has managed to find a slot that needs to be filled. There will be a bare minimum guard force, mainly of those who are injured and won't recover before operations begin, along with a few administration types and a small number of Navy personnel who have been seconded to us for base communications details."

"Who's going to be in command, Sir?"

"Captain Leslie MacLean. She's just had a baby and is still on maternity leave. She tried to get back to her unit but I put a stop on it. She'll be assisted by Sergeant Major Boothroyd from the third battalion who's been growing a new leg and hasn't been signed off as fit for duty."

The Colonel looked across at the Sergeant Major before returning his attention to David, "Centurion, I would like you to assist Captain MacLean as much as you can, especially with the families. The three townships are going to have the better part of fifteen thousand concubines in them and with less than a hundred volunteers she will be hard pushed to keep them in check. Captain MacLean is going to have her hands full just looking after the military aspects of the colony without dealing with the day-to-day grievances of the concubines. I would like you to fulfil the role that used to be called 'the families' officer' back on Earth, first point of contact and all that. If you're willing I'd be immensely grateful."

David couldn't see any options but to accept; however, "If I took on that role, Sir, I'd need a certain amount of authority, not just over the concubines but over the military who were here."

"Agreed, though Captain MacLean is in overall charge."

"Yes, Sir."

"Thank you, Centurion," said the Colonel, rising and offering his hand. "It makes me feel much better knowing that one of the potential problems I'm leaving behind is in such capable hands."

David looked over at the Sergeant Major, who hadn't said a word throughout the interview, and was greeted by a grin that clearly said, got you!

---oOo---

"Well," said David raising his coffee cup and looking through the steam rising from it at Leslie MacLean, "they've been gone for two weeks and the place hasn't descended into total anarchy so I suppose we must be doing something right."

"That's one way of looking at it," responded the lightly freckled redhead from her position behind the office's only desk, "but how much of that is down to us I wouldn't like to say."

"Well, I think you've both been magnificent," said the dark haired Sergeant Major from his place at the coffee pot, where he was topping off his second cup.

David laughed, "Just because we've listened to you doesn't mean we agree with you Freddie, so don't go getting big headed on us," he said, as he relaxed waiting for the meeting to get started seriously.

"Me Sir? Big headed Sir? I wouldn't know how to do that, I'm just a jarhead unlike you high and mighty officer types," replied the limping Sergeant Major as he rejoined the two of them.

"Pack it in the pair of you," said the Marine Captain, "this is supposed to be a serious discussion covering any points that need to be sorted for the good and well being of the colony, not an amateur comedy night."

"And as you well know Ma'am," the Sergeant Major continued as he lowered himself carefully into the chair opposite David, "just about everything is in hand, or beyond our means at this time..."

Sergeant Major Boothroyd's answer was interrupted by a loud clattering outside the door and then the sudden entry of one of the Navy ratings from the communications room.

"Ma'am, the Sa'arm are here!" the blue uniformed man blurted out.

"Where?" demanded Captain MacLean, rising to her feet, her demeanour immediately changing to the Marine officer she actually was.

"Eight reports that they've entered the system on the far side of the sun in the same plane as us. They've detached the only ships they've got to investigate but the hyper footprint suggests that the three Castle class corvettes aren't going to be of much use out there."

The man looked to be on the edge of panic as he continued, "Eight added that they're evacuating the system and that all ships will be departing in the next six to eight hours."

"Thank you," Leslie replied calmly, "Get back to communications and keep me informed of developments."

The three watched as the Navy man gave a shaky salute and turned away before they slumped down, the Sergeant Major was the first to break the silence. "How deep in it are we?" he asked almost rhetorically.

"Pretty deep," said Leslie, "We've only got enough Marines on the planet's surface to put together a heavy platoon and most of them," she added, "are here because they are unfit in some way for duty. All the heavy weapons, the plasma cannon and RAM mortars are away with the Regiment and there are no reinforcements within a week of here."

David piped up, "Add in that there are fifteen thousand concubines and we look just like a huge food farm to the lizards."

The Sergeant Major looked between the two officers before asking, "So what do we do?" though he appeared to know what was coming.

Captain MacLean looked him in the eye, "We fight and we die," she said, and Lester Boothroyd didn't seem that surprised.

David, equally as sombre, said, "And we get as many of the people as we can off the planet or as far away from the lizard's landing as we can."

The Sergeant Major was nodding, "Fight for time," he said, "and hope that the Regiment -- or someone else -- gets here before we become foodstuff."

"That's about right," said Leslie MacLean, her voice trembling slightly at the enormity of the task facing her.

---oOo---

"Helm, break orbit," ordered Captain Whitecastle and watched his repeater screen as the Flint Castle and Guildford Castle conformed to his own ship's manoeuvre

The Hadleigh Castle was one of the many small corvettes that the Confederacy had produced to fulfil the demand for ships. Their primary role was as scouts and escorts to the colonisation ships. Their limited armament and weak hulls made them unsuitable for full scale naval engagements. That fact made their current situation less than entertaining for the three Captains as they headed off to get a closer look at the Sa'arm forces entering the Neptune system.

Commodore Arkwright had been blunt in his assessment of their chances, and their mission. "You've just been given the shitty end of the stick," he'd said at their final, admittedly hurried briefing. "You need to go out there and find out exactly what is coming, then get that information back to fleet headquarters. If that means cutting and running you are to do it, do I make myself clear?"

The three of them had acknowledged the order and it was clear that nobody was happy. They had the only fighting vessels available and they were being told to run, leaving the civilians on the planet to fend for themselves. The fact that none of them had concubines on the planet seemed to make the feelings worse, not better.

In many ways Captain Whitecastle felt he'd drawn the short straw as his was the ship that had been picked to stand back as the other two went forward to investigate and, if possible, get in a couple of shots before they turned and ran. He had to sit there and suck up the data, just in case. He was not a happy bunny, though he suspected that some of the feeling was due to the relief that he and his ship would survive regardless of how bad the situation got.

"Sir, Flint and Guildford are drawing ahead, it's time to go stealthy," his Exec reminded him through his wool gathering.

"Make it so, Exec, let's get with the plan."

The Hadleigh Castle attempted to imitate space as all active systems were powered down and, as far as possible, it did the same with its passive systems. This made for an uncomfortable ride for the crew but anything that lowered their chances of being spotted had to be done. Their course had been planned to minimise the exposure of his ship to the incoming vessels whilst giving him a clear sight of the other two corvettes, he wasn't going to do anything that compromised that position.

The two corvettes made a one gee approach to the incoming fleet and scanned as soon as they where in range. What they found was one of the smallest class of hive ships, more of an exploration vessel than a colonisation or conquest ship but, because of the way the Sa'arm bred, just leaving it alone would fill a planet with the lizards eventually.

It was surrounded by a cluster of a dozen attack ships, according to intelligence the total number this class of ship could carry. The approaching corvettes were ignored until a group of six craft detached themselves and headed for the incoming pair. Back on the Hadleigh Castle Captain Whitecastle murmured to himself, "Limited sensor range." Across the display table his Exec nodded his agreement before silence descended on the bridge again.

The two corvettes started to separate, aiming to pass either side of the incoming Sa'arm ships. In response the squadron heading for them also split up with four ships heading for the Flint while the other two altered course towards Guildford but slowed. At the same time two more attack craft detached themselves from the cluster around the hive ship and accelerated outwards aiming to join the pair orientated on the Guildford.

The four ships approaching Flint started to rotate around a common axis, this cone centred on the incoming frigate. On Hadleigh the Exec commented, "That's their standard tactic, surround and board rather than just shoot."

"They take every opportunity to gain new information," said Captain Whitecastle, "even if it costs them a few units. Callous but a good survival habit for the collective."

Flint Castle started to rotate on its own axis, matching its spin to that of the incoming attack craft. The Exec frowned, "What do you think of that Sir?" he asked his Captain.

"I'm not convinced, I know it's supposed to make the aiming solutions easier for the weapon systems but to me it just presents a single, possibly weakened, flank to the incoming ship." He nodded to the display, "and in a situation like this I doubt if it will make a great deal of difference to the final outcome." This announcement was greeted with silence, everyone on the bridge knew that Flint and Guildford would be extremely lucky to get out of there alive.

When the Flint Castle opened fire the Sa'arm seemed to abandon their plans and ships dived in from all sides, attempting to close the range. In the end it was difficult to say whether the Sa'arm ship deliberately rammed the corvette or was simply disabled and out of control. The explosion that followed rendered the matter irrelevant as only one of the Sa'arm attack craft survived and from its performance even that seemed to be damaged.

Following the explosion the two attack craft that had been loitering between the hive ship and the Guildford Castle accelerated again, at the same time the Guildford changed course directly towards the hive ship.

What followed was the classic game of chicken, with no chickens involved. The two Sa'arm attack craft were bludgeoned into submission and a severely damaged corvette continued towards the hive ship. All six of the remaining attack craft were now headed for the single corvette at what appeared to be their maximum acceleration.

The second game of chicken didn't go so well for the human corvette and although it knocked down the two attack craft it seemed to have lost power to its engines, continuing towards the hive ship in free fall. The four remaining attack craft approached quickly but cautiously, sticking with the surround and board method of old. The distance between the corvette and the hive ship continued to close at the same time as the attack craft positioned themselves to board. At the instant of contact the Guildford Castle exploded, its scuttling charges converting it's mass into a cloud of super fast molecules. The remnants of the last four attack craft were blown apart, their debris spreading in all directions, including back towards the hive ship.

It wasn't a spectacular explosion when it occurred but the hive ship slowed suddenly, its power signature dropping to half and a cloud of gas escaped from the rear of the ship. Back on the Hadleigh Castle the despondency which had greeted the destruction of the two human corvettes lifted slightly as the reports of the damage flowed in.

Captain Whitecastle turned to his Exec, "Let's get out of here, Exec, just as we planned, nice and quietly."

---oOo---

"So Sergeant Major, what have we got?" David asked.

"Not a lot Centurion," said the Sergeant Major glancing at the motley crew he'd assembled across from the armoury. "Captain MacLean has got most of the Marines and is sorting out transport to get them to the landing site in the shortest possible time.

He waved at the crowd around him, "I've got half a dozen sergeants, thirty-eight ex-military types, who were here as concubines, and four squids." He rubbed the back of his neck before continuing, "Nearly all of them were support types, clerks, storemen, radio operators and what have you. None of them have ever handled the laser rifle or any other Confed Marine kit."

He gave David a sardonic grin, "I can give them armour, rifles and uniforms but not the experience or the training. They may look like Marines but they're a long way short of that. How about you?"

David gave a snort, "The AIs are proving to be difficult," he said. "They are getting picky about evacuating concubines without the express permission of their sponsors and the best estimate we've got, even with the damage the Navy did to the hive ship, is that they are going to be landing in four hours time. We're between the classic rock and an extremely hard place."

He looked around before continuing in a lowered voice, "I've managed to get a colony transport moved here from eight and it's held in orbit -- though the Darjee crew are not happy about it. As the CSO I can get those concubines under my care away, so all the families of Charlie Company are out of here." David glanced around again, "Sergeant Major, I can also take any concubines and family members that the sponsors gives me permission to take, including those of Marines who remain behind."

"Have you spoken to the Captain?" the Sergeant Major asked.

"Only briefly, by radio, I'm taking her daughter and both of her women away. Her man should be in that group over there," David said with a nod of head. "She told me it was up to the individual sponsor and I wasn't to broadcast it, which is why I'm here in person."

"Sensible, say it too loud and we'd have chaos." He pondered for a moment then bellowed, "Marines on me, now." From all around the pair Marines stood and made their way across the open space, their expressions varying from complete indifference to extreme curiosity.

"Right, keep it down and listen in," the Sergeant Major began. "The Centurion here can get your concubines away, but only with your permission. If you want them off this dirtball tell the AIs now and it'll be done."

One of the men opened his mouth to speak but the Sergeant Major beat him to it, "No questions, just a straight decision. Do they go or not."

"Shit," said one of the men, looking across the empty space, "Gemma is over there, do I send her?"

David closed his eyes momentarily, "That's your choice," he said receiving a hard stare in response. "Welcome to Shitsville," he concluded.

Inside his head David heard the AIs running commentary as it rippled through the latest additions to his evacuation list, after a couple of minutes it ground to a halt and David asked, "Totals?"

The AI responded, "Six hundred and twenty-six concubines who are carrying one hundred and eleven foetuses and eighty-two children. This figure includes those concubines attached to the Civil Service brothel but does not include your own family."

"That seems a little low?" David asked, the question in his tone.

"Several of your earlier concubines have military experience and are remaining behind to fight," the AI responded, "Captain MacLean, as the ranking officer, authorised the action."

David's confusion must have transmitted itself in someway to the AI, "She required an approach to all concubines with previous military experience. I included the ones attached to the Civil Service in that query."

"Thank you," replied David but he noted that the AIs were willing to use any concubine to further their ends whilst blocking his attempts to get them off the planet.

"Have those concubines that have just been added to my control transferred to the hanger and establish a transporter function between the hanger and the colony ship. I wish to begin transferring people as soon as possible."

"Yes Centurion."

With nothing further to say the Centurion offered the Sergeant Major his hand and then turned away to his own responsibilities.

---oOo---

Captain MacLean was over by the sensor display, watching as the computer generated track crossed the holographic display towards the planet's surface. The system's operator dictated a few commands and the AI caused the display to twist and flatten out, presenting a three dimensional map on the table. The track the ship was following was clearly marked across its gently undulating surface.

The large red circle -- marking the predicted landing zone -- flexed and oscillated as the margin for error became smaller until it stopped drifting and began to settle down in one place. Realisation of its position caused the Marine Captain to look up and mutter, "Fuck."

Sergeant Major Boothroyd looked over and raised an eyebrow in question as the Navy sensor operator spoke up, confirming what the Captain had just observed. "The Sa'arm landing point is confirmed as three kilometres north of First."

When the three townships on Trident had been established they had been imaginatively named First, Second and Third. The Regiment, and its three component battalions had gone along with this in true military style and each battalion had set up home in the township of the same name.

"Only three klicks, shit!" the big Sergeant Major exclaimed.

The two senior Marines looked at one another and knew that their battle plan was in the crapper. The original idea was for the Captain and the regular Marines to hit the landing site whilst the Sergeant Major got as much of the concubine population as possible heading away from the site and then acted as a backstop. At three kilometres, time and distance were against them, they were going to have to do something drastic.

Captain MacLean became all business, "AI get the word to all concubines, they are to grab what food and clothing they can and get as far from First as possible. They are to move in any direction from East to West through South, on no account are any concubines to head North of the East-West line."

She continued, "Sergeant Major, your six squads are to set up here," she indicated an area on the map," and are to act independently and try to draw the surviving Swarm away North of us." She indicated a position on the opposite side of the red circle and said, "My platoon will hit them as hard as possible from here for as long as possible before we break off and join you."

Looking at no one in particular she murmured, "I just hope it's enough," before grabbing her rifle and heading off to brief her troops on the new plan.

The Sergeant Major took a moment and asked the AI, "How is the Civil Service evacuation going?"

"The current evacuation list will be completed before the Hive ship lands, the colony ship Diaspora is going to withdraw to the limits of transporter range and try to maintain a position to evacuate any others as required."

The Sergeant Major was surprised at the tone the AI adopted as it relayed this information and then guessed that the Centurion was throwing his weight around. 'Good for you', he thought before picking up his laser rifle and following the Captain out of the door.

---oOo---

Bedlam

David watched from high in the hanger as concubines, under the direction of the system's AI began streaming past on their way South. The five thousand or so civilians who'd called First their home were on the move, a move that was being driven by panic.

Around the hanger, and in a slightly more orderly manner, a small number of troops had gathered. These were the real non-combatants, those who were to injured too take an active part in the operations being thrown together against the Sa'arm. They'd acquired arms and appeared to be setting up to fight, which David considered stupidity, something he'd already noted -- that a high CAP score was no defence against.

The AI interrupted his musings, "Centurion, all of the concubines have been evacuated and the ship is preparing to move to high orbit. It is time for you to leave."

David took one last look around and headed for the transporter portal.


Twelve kilometres away Leslie MacLean listened as the AI confirmed that all dependants who were being evacuated had successfully reached the ship and offered up a silent prayer for the well being of her daughter and then switched back to Marine mode and the situation before her. The predicted landing site for the hive ship was on a very flat open plain, which when you considered the lack of any serious terrain features on this planet, meant it looked like a pool table, especially from the top of the slight rise where she'd had her platoon dig a hasty position.

She went over the briefing she'd given to see if she could find any improvement, no matter how small.

The Hive ship would presumably land and start disgorging troops immediately. Under normal circumstances the attack craft would have swept the area for opposition but as the Navy had taken them out they shouldn't present any sort of problem. Unfortunately the Marines didn't have anything big enough to take on the ship itself so she and her troops were going to have to sit tight and wait for the lizards to emerge.

Then it was a case of shoot and scoot; hopefully drawing the lizards away from First and keeping them occupied until help arrived.

As she lay there, almost fondling her rifle, she didn't hold out much hope. They had limited ammunition, almost nowhere to hide and a numerically superior enemy who'd barely been touched.

On the opposite side of the predicted landing site Sergeant Major Freddie Boothroyd would have agreed with her summation one hundred percent. He was actually more despondent than his officer was. At least the Captain had fully trained Marines to work with which was more than could be said for his ad-hoc bunch of misfits. At least he wasn't going to be the first to engage which should give him a slightly better chance.

He'd already detached two of his squads with orders to drop back a klick and start digging. He'd heard reports of how fast the lizards responded and whilst he'd never been in a situation where he didn't have overwhelming firepower and thus neutralised the immediate threat, he didn't want to get caught out in the open if he could possibly avoid it.

All he had to do now was wait.

---oOo---

David stepped out of the familiar shimmering field onto the main hanger deck of the colony ship Diaspora and looked around. Having several hundred people milling around created a lot of noise and apparent confusion. As soon as he'd orientated himself he put in a call to the ship's AI and asked for instructions. The AI informed him that there where only six of the ship's human crew members aboard, three forward and three aft, he should contact them for further instructions.

David climbed onto a convenient box and looked around at a sea of grey, the standard issue smocks blending with the paint scheme and the crew's uniforms to hide details. He tried to call through the communications system and was balked by the AI as he currently lacked authority to do so.

Taking a deep breath he bellowed, "Quiet."

Those in his immediate vicinity fell silent and the quiet rippled out as people turned to see what the problem was.

"Sit," David commanded and again the results rippled out like waves on a millpond.

Two people remained standing by the forward bulkhead, their clothing the same colour as the concubines which had hidden them from view. David stepped down from his box and strode purposely towards the waiting pair. The taller of the two -- a man -- shuffled slightly to one side leaving his partner -- a woman -- to face the oncoming Centurion.

David smiled to himself, not realising that to those around him it looked like the hungry grin of a shark.

"What is the hold up?" he demanded.

"Authority," replied the woman, "our boss didn't make it back to the ship and we don't have the authority to get the AI to release the pods."

"I see," responded David frowning slightly. "I take it no one in the other half of this tub can help either?"

"No Sir," she replied.

"OK, hang on a sec whilst I get this sorted." He turned his attention to the AI and began negotiating, it seemed like a long process but once the AI accepted his equivalent rank and that the Civil Service had commandeered this ship for a legitimate purpose he was granted the necessary authority to utilise the pods.

David turned his attention back to the crew who'd stood and watched as he'd haggled, "Right, let's get started shall we. I'm David ap Rhys, Centurion in the Civil Service and it would appear that I'm the one in charge here. You are?" he asked.

"Petty Officer Samosa," replied the woman, "and this is Spaceman One Fielding."

Curiosity popped up its head, "Why the grey uniform?" he asked puzzled.

"We're Fleet Auxiliary personnel," she said.

"Who or what is the Fleet Auxiliary?" asked David, becoming more bemused.

PO Samosa smiled. "It would appear that the Navy didn't want to be responsible for shifting colonists and the Darjee were starting to flip at some of the things that were going on so the AIs started to pick out some of us who'd had Merchant Navy experience to crew the colony ships. The first guy they picked had been a member of the British Royal Fleet Auxiliary so he picked that name."

"So are you military or civilians?"

"We're civilians but under military orders and discipline in time of war, which as I'm sure you've noticed is now," she said pointedly.

"True," responded David, taking the not so subtle hint. "We've got seven hundred and forty people to find homes for so if we stick nine in a pod that should leave us a few spare pods if we need them later. Can you pass the message to the other half of the ship and get them to do the same."

"Yes Sir," the Petty Officer responded before hustling away and taking Spaceman Fielding with her. David looked around for his own family and found them all together with Megan fussing around like a mother hen to keep them that way.

"Megan, take the first two pods in the forward ring and don't let anyone else in. If you get any trouble refer them to me."

"OK David," said Megan before turning to the family, "Come on you lot, you heard what David said."

As they started to move David called out, "Get everyone in their uniforms, Megan, just in case." Megan waved as she led the way to the front ring of pods.

'Now, how do I find out what's happening down on the surface?' thought David.

---oOo---

Considering how big the damned thing was it made remarkably little impact when it landed. As she'd expected, there were lizards spilling out of various hatches before the dust cloud had started to dissipate, let alone settle.

'Oh well, the waiting's over,' she thought as she gave the order to open fire.

The initial shot dropped Sa'arm all across the width of the Hive ship. Those who hadn't been targeted started to mill around, or so it appeared at first but slowly she determined a pattern of sorts as they moved fast, stopped, scanned then moved off again in a seeming random direction. By concentrating on one particular group Captain MacLean was able to spot that at least one of the group was stationary and observing outwards as the group moved.

In each segment of the Hive ships perimeter there was a small group of lizards moving, and in each group there was always one on overwatch, but never for long enough to get a clear shot at the stationary member of the group.

Suddenly there was a dull concussion off to her right and one of the prepared positions disappeared in a roiling mass of rocks, dust and body parts. The Hive ship had opened up with its armament against which her troops had no defence.

"Odd squads pull back, and keep low," she bellowed, "Come on people, move it."

Half her troops slithered backwards whilst the remainder poured on a suppressing fire, at least they hoped it was sufficient to suppress the lizards.

Twenty seconds later and another large impact on the battle line proved that it wasn't enough.

"Everyone else, get out of here! Come on move, before they shred us!"

Captain MacLean was wiggling as fast as her cute little butt would move and had just dropped below the ridgeline when her previous position went up in a cloud of dust.

Crouching low she dashed across the narrow gap between two rolling hills and headed around to the North and away from the settlements.

Far across the valley Sergeant Major Boothroyd watched the initial engagement and pondered his first move. Taking the lizards on at this range was suicidal, one shot and run was the best bet, so he got everybody in his improvised platoon into position and took the shot.

The sudden attack from the opposite side seemed to confuse the lizards for a moment but attention quickly switched to both flanks where they were just in time to see the last of the Sergeant Major's men slithering away from their shooting positions.

From his second position Freddie Boothroyd watched as what looked like a company of lizards lined up and began to sweep out to where he'd been. On the far side of the Hive ship another similar body was doing the same towards the Captain's old position.

Another mass of lizards started to form up and move towards his current position though whether they could actually see him or were just guessing he didn't know and he wasn't going to hang around to find out.

"Davie, drop those mines around here and let's skedaddle," he ordered, watching as the rest of his men formed up loosely and headed off in a north-westerly direction. He murmured to himself, "I hope the cavalry gets here soon 'cause this is going to get old very quickly."

Captain MacLean, observing the same scene from a hill four klicks away felt exactly the same.

---oOo---

David looked over the holographic presentation and just managed to refrain from snarling as he watched the representation of the engagement unfold. The list of ifs was getting longer as was his determination to ensure that it never happened again, after all this was the second planet the Sa'arm had chased him off of and it wasn't fun.

If they'd had heavy weapons available, if the Navy had been able to inflict more damage, if the Navy was still in system with something capable of shooting at the planet, hell if he'd only had a catapult he'd give it a go, he thought.

Still he needed to get a grip of this ship and what they were going to do. "Has the planetary AI released the concubines for evacuation," he asked the ships AI for the umpteenth time and the answer was the same, "No".

David knew the planet side AI wouldn't, and until such time as it did -- or it ceased to operate -- then the concubines were trapped on the planet's surface and there was nothing he could do about it. Staying in orbit wouldn't achieve anything so it was time to get out of Dodge, before things got too hot for an unarmed colony ship.

A rumbling stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten for a long time so, putting off the decision to abandon the concubines he headed for the canteen and a quick snack.

As he queued he watched a group of children playing with a crate of water bottles, amused that they could have fun with something so simple, especially at a time like this. One of the mothers wasn't so forgiving and grabbed the crate off them and shoved the bottles inside before pushing it onto a shelf. Where it promptly toppled and sent its contents slithering and tumbling towards the floor. The first bottle hit and split sending streams of water off in every direction.

David, his eyes following the path of one of the bottles, had a vision of a pod in free fall. He froze for a moment and then turned and headed back for the holographic display, talking to the AI as he went.

Was it possible? he thought. "AI, can pods initiate re-entry on their own."

"In a limited fashion, if careful placement is not required."

"How many unoccupied pods are there attached to this ship?"

"Eleven."

"Consider this scenario, launching the pods from our current orbit to arrive at the planet's surface with maximum velocity in the area of the Hive ship landing site. Is this feasible?"

He was greeted by silence for many minutes; the AI ignoring all calls for attention as it digested his proposal. Then he was answered, a single word, "Yes."

"What would be the probable outcome?"

"Unable to calculate as the defensive systems of the Hive ship are unknown. However, even a near miss should cause substantial damage to the ship and hinder Sa'arm operations on the surface."

"Describe the damage and its area of effect."

"By treating the eleven pods as a loose meteor shower it is possible to predict the effects -- it should be noted that this is highly subjective. Initial velocity at atmospheric entry would be twenty metres per second, on impact this would have dropped to approximately eight point eight kilometres per second. The pods would spread over an area of one hundred and twenty thousand square metres and impact with the equivalent force of four point two megatons of TNT. This would create a crater just over one kilometre in diameter."

"The blast from the impact would severely damage the township of First with lesser damage at the headquarters site and the townships of Second and Third. At a distance of five kilometres from the impact site the seismic effects would be the same as a force five earthquake."

David pondered for a moment, and then asked, "How many concubines are still in that area of effect?"

"Less than a thousand although there are volunteers just outside that area in the headquarters complex. The Marines deployed in the field under Captain MacLean are still well inside that area."

"What would be the flight time for the pods in this scenario?"

"It will take approximately two hours to detach the pods and cluster them together. From initiation of descent to impact would be thirty-seven minutes."

David glanced at the ship board time and did a simple calculation in his head, "AI, this is Centurion David ap Rhys. We will initiate that plan; actions are to be timed so that impact occurs at eighteen hundred hours local time. Inform all planet bound personnel that they must be at least six kilometres from the Hive ship by that time. In the case of Captain MacLean and Sergeant Major Boothroyd inform them specifically of what we are going to do and wish them luck from me. Acknowledge orders."

"Acknowledged, initial pod separations will begin in twelve minutes."

David nodded and then sat and stared at the holographic display; all thoughts of food forgotten as he stared at the creeping dots that represented the lizards spreading slowly across the planet's surface.

---oOo---

Captain MacLean and the Sergeant Major joined up a good five kilometres from the hive ship, travelling north, both parties pursued by company-sized groups of lizards. Apart from slowing to deploy the small numbers of mines they still had with them they had been on the move constantly for over three hours and they needed a rest.

"So what do you think, will it work," the Sergeant Major gasped, his new leg giving him severe pain as he hobbled along.

Beside him Captain MacLean knew how he felt, her own pain had been caused by child bearing but she still felt stretched as she forced her body to keep moving. "It sounds reasonable," she panted, "I hope so because I don't know how much longer I can keep going."

"Impact in eighteen minutes," echoed in each of their heads as the AI kept them informed of the incoming pods progress.

"Come on people, step on it, we need to get away from here," she called, grimacing as she did so. Around her Marines and military trained concubines lifted packs higher on their shoulders and tried to increase the pace but all of them were sweating like pigs and even the fittest was near the breaking point.

"Davie," the Sergeant Major called out, "angle left a bit and take us round the back of that hill." He glanced at the Captain, "It's a bit short distance wise but it'll shield us from the blast and we'll be able to hit the lizards as they cross this open area," he explained.

"And we'll have a chance to get our breath back," she said with a smile.


The eleven pods had been anchored together using a combination of tractor beams and magnetic grapples which held the lot together as a loose cluster rather than a solid mass. This allowed the pods to move around a little as they hurtled through the atmosphere, the low powered force field protecting them from the heating affects of re-entry.

However the buffeting did open them up as the atmosphere grew thicker, changing the sensor image they presented as they oscillated around a common point. The ballistic course they were on confused the sensor systems on the hive ship and that, along with an error in the course prediction of the pods, allowed them to get much closer than was wise before they were catalogued as a threat.

Close defence weapons started to engage the pods but, being effectively hollow lumps of metal, they didn't react in the way that an enemy ship would. Holes were punched through them but it didn't cause any major changes in course or velocity. The steady buildup of hits did cause the pod linkages to begin failing and slowly the single mass became two and then three smaller clusters.

None of the cluster hit the ship directly, though that didn't lower the overall effect. The pods ploughed into the fertile soil of the plain with the equivalent force of two hundred Nagasaki atomic bombs. The tremors created were felt across the whole continent, anyone standing within twenty kilometres was knocked to the floor. The shockwave broke ninety percent of the windows in all three townships, leaving First in particular nothing but a wreck. The dust cloud blown into the atmosphere would go on to create the first major weather system the planet had seen in generations.

The Hive ship and all around it disappeared in the cloud of molten earth and vaporising water, remnants of the ship dropped into and around an almost circular crater that was three hundred metres deep.

Five and a half kilometres away and just over a second after the impact the ground shook violently. Fortunately the Marines were prone behind the crest and moderately prepared for the effect which is more than can be said for the three hundred or so lizards crossing the open area in front of them.

Several of the troopers started to move into firing positions, "Stay down, all of you," screamed the Sergeant Major, his voice stilling the movement.

Eighteen seconds later a three hundred kilometres per hour blast hammered across the hillside; the few trees were flattened by its passage. Anything loose was torn free and blown across the ground creating a missile hazard for anyone exposed to it.

On the plain those lizards that had managed to remain standing were floored by the wind's passage. Many of them were skittled across the ground for tens of metres, only their armoured shells protecting them from serious damage.

The return blast wave was nowhere near as traumatic and after its passage the troopers quickly prepared themselves for battle. Leslie MacLean and Freddie Boothroyd grinned at each other, both believing that they now had a chance. How much of a chance was still to be seen.

---oOo---

Far above the planet's surface a small group of humans gathered around the holodisplay and watched the destruction that rained down on the hive ship in glorious Technicolor. The group, a mix of concubines, fleet auxiliary personnel and David offered no celebrations at the damage they'd caused though there was a sense of relief that those left behind at least had a chance because of their actions.

David looked around and gathered the group by eye, bringing their attention back into the ship. "AI," he called, "estimate effectiveness of the strike and predict the future course of events?" A look of interest spread throughout the group as they waited for the AI's presentation.

"The impact has destroyed the Sa'arm Hive ship. There are no life signs in or around the impact area. It is believed that all Sa'arm units at that location have been destroyed. In other locations there are a total of four hundred and twenty three Sa'arm units detected. Of these three hundred and twelve are currently pursuing Captain MacLean and her party."

"Going on information provided by Admiral Charteris and the Confederacy Second Fleet, who are carrying out experimentation in the Tulakat system, the remaining Sa'arm units are enough to create a breeding colony. But it is estimated that they will have insufficient time to build up a big enough population to stop the retaking of the system. There will, however be substantial loss of life amongst the humans on the planet if they fail to maintain as much separation as possible from the Sa'arm base."

"The planetary AI is expecting to be overrun within thirty-six hours at which point the people on the ground will lose all access to surveillance functions. Unfortunately there is nothing that can be done about this from our current resources."

"The blast caused the death of one hundred and eleven concubines, the majority of whom were in a building in First which collapsed. They had been ordered to leave repeatedly and had failed to comply, their loss should have no effect on the viability of the colony." The AI was callous in its assessment but obedience to orders was a major facet of Confederacy life.

"As per standing orders all items of technology that may be of use to the Sa'arm are being rigged with explosives to ensure their destruction, though the planetary AI admits that it is short of explosives to guarantee that this task is completed satisfactorily. With the destruction of the attack craft and the Hive ship there is no way, at this time, for the Sa'arm to get information off the planet or appeal for assistance and it is predicted that a relief force will be in-system before such an event can take place. This does not allow for reinforcements arriving from other Sa'arm systems."

"Does anybody have any questions regarding what you've just heard?" asked David.

When none where forthcoming he addressed the AI again, "Then, as far as you can tell, our remaining here will have no effect on the situation?"

"No positive impact at all and might create a negative impression if another Sa'arm unit transits this system."

David cast his glance over the small group once again and announced, "Then I believe it is time for us to leave, the only question facing us is where to."

Petty Officer Samosa got David's attention, "The Navy were heading for the Sector Base at Frickat, I'd suggest we do the same. They can always direct us somewhere else once we get there."

"OK," said David, agreeing with the obvious choice. "It's going to take a couple of weeks to get there so let's make sure everyone is settled down and as comfortable as possible and make tracks."

As the meeting broke up David glanced at the holographic display and sighed. Another one hundred and eleven bodies to add to his growing list of casualties, and he wasn't even facing the Sa'arm.

---oOo---

Captain MacLean scrambled, a little clumsily, up to the crest of the hill and looked across the open plain towards the pursing Sa'arm units. They were scattered everywhere, nearly all of them on their sides or backs and unmoving. She watched them for a minute and none of them moved an inch.

Slowly it dawned on her what had happened, the strike had taken out the ship, killing all the lizards there. For those outside, including the lot that were chasing her, the sudden loss of so many had left them in a catatonic state, they were sitting ducks.

Turning back she gestured to the Sergeant Major to get everyone up on the crest, as people responded she began relaying orders. "Start at the extreme edges and work your way inwards," she said pointing out the flanks, "take your time and kill the lizards where they're lying." The last was almost a snarl.

"Fire!"

Although the position they were in was far from the military ideal, leaving them silhouetted on the ridgeline, the Marines did as they'd been commanded. The first volley, even at the five hundred metres range that applied, killed nearly all the lizards that were targeted. It also served to wake up the rest of the bunch and by the time the majority of humans had squeezed off their second shots the lizards were up on their three legs and reacting to the incoming fire.

After that things got more confused as the lizards started to withdraw rapidly and the controlled fire that the humans had been using became ragged as they endeavoured to kill as many lizards as possible before they got out of sight. When the last lizard disappeared from view the Captain called a halt and then got together with the Sergeant Major and began making plans for the immediate future.

"Well, the AI reckons they're going to have to consolidate somewhere and then come out after us," she said. "So I think we go back to the original idea. You swing around the landing site and get yourself positioned as a blocking force between the lizards and our concubines. I'll stick around here with my platoon and hit them whenever I can and try to draw them off North." Leslie MacLean shrugged, "At least we know that if we keep running they won't have enough bodies to catch us all."

"That's true," agreed the Sergeant Major, "but I really don't feel up to running at the moment. Did the AI give you any idea how long it'll be until they start expanding again?"

"No, and the Centurion didn't know either when I asked him," she said. "He's heading out about now, which means we're well and truly on our own down here."

Freddie Boothroyd looked around at the survivors of the action and smiled, "Well we'd better get ourselves spread out so the lizards think there are thousands of us then hadn't we Ma'am." He settled his pack on his back and half turned to leave, "Good luck Ma'am, and I'll see you when the Regiment gets back."

"I'll be waiting Sergeant Major, I'll be waiting."

---oOo---

The arrival of the Diaspora in the Frickat system created a minor stir and the Navy scrambled off a strike group to greet the incoming -- and unexpected -- ship. The two human crewed cruisers, satisfied at the identity of the colony ship, had escorted the smaller ship into a close orbit around Frick, the Confederacy Sector Base.

The debriefing had been short and mostly conducted between the relevant AIs, though David himself had attended a short meeting with the base commander, Admiral Congreave, who'd made it a point to congratulate him on the improvisation that had allowed the use of the pods as a weapon.

Once these necessary details had been taken care of the difficulties started for the refugees from Neptune. Nobody in the Frickat system had a clue what to do with a shipload of concubines without sponsors and they were unwilling to cull them which was the only suggestion that the AIs would come up with.

David had been throwing his weight about as best he could since he'd arrived in system. He had managed to get the dependants of the Marines on Trident off the ship and into the care of the local garrison, which had relieved a lot of the pressure on the shipboard systems. When he'd also arranged to get the pods he'd used as missiles replaced by brand new pods and spread the ship's complement out he'd managed to get the overcrowding issue sorted once and for all. On average there were now only six people per pod which was positively luxurious after the last two weeks of overcrowding.

David had been in daily contact with Legate Steve Wilson, the local Civil Service Officer, who had been helpful but unwilling to take the concubines off his hands. The Legate had already got enough problems of his own without getting another shipful from outside his area and had said so.

After a week in orbit the Darjee crew, who had been showing serious signs of mental illness according to the ships AI, had been replaced by a human crew from the Fleet Auxiliary, which made Petty Officer Samosa a happy bunny. Unfortunately the human crew hadn't been given any orders either so the ship languished in orbit for another week as everyone fretted and schemed.

At the end of that week, the fourth since they'd escaped from the Neptune system, David was summoned planet side to meet with Legate Wilson. After the two men were comfortably seated with a coffee in hand the Legate began. "You know, this whole escapade has got people in senior positions thinking."

David raised an eyebrow, convinced in his own mind that no one had been doing any thinking at all.

"Oh come on David! You know the history of the Service as well as anyone else. We're an afterthought, an attempt to fill a hole that appeared where nobody thought there should be one. Well that crowd you've got up there isn't just a hole it's a small sea and the longer this conflict goes on the bigger that sea is going to become. You bringing them here has made it obvious to everyone that we need to do some serious planning for those sort of consequences."

The Legate paused to take a sip of his coffee, "One of the things they've done is decided what to do with you, though I'll admit it does seem a bit haphazard."

"What's happening?" asked David unconsciously slipping to the edge of his chair.

"They're sending you to Poseidon. It's a system way out on the other side of Earth. As far as I can tell the colony has been going for a couple of weeks and you and your lot are being added to it."

"Without sponsors?" asked David, starting to rise.

The Legate raised his hand, "That's right," he said. "You are to hand over the concubines to the commander of the colony who will handle them as he sees fit."

"What about the rules on numbers of concubines allowed?" David demanded.

"It seems that in that colony they are going to be ignored." The Legate took another sip of his coffee as he watched David, who slowly lowered himself back into his chair.

"Does this do away with us, the Civil Service?" the Centurion asked.

"Not really, it's a one off experiment and to be honest I don't see how it's going to work. The sheer numbers would add too many to be dealt with by simply handing them out willy-nilly. I don't know what the hierarchy is expecting but I'm guessing that someone, somewhere, is trying to make a point, probably to the Darjee and the rest of the Confederacy. You and the colony commander, this Alex Flowers, have simply drawn the short straws in this case."

The Legate put down his empty coffee cup and picked up another small box. "Anyway, three weeks from now you'll be at Poseidon and will be able to see what is going on for yourself. In the meantime there's one bit of good news," he said, casually tossing the small box to David. "They've decided to promote you for the work you've done and for what you're about to receive."

David slowly opened the box in his hand and looked at the collar badges inside.

"Congratulations Tribune, I hope you'll continue to do the Service proud," said the Legate, a cheerful smile on his face.

---oOo---

Many thanks to The Thinking Horndog and Mulligan for their editing of this piece, any errors that survived are due to my changes after the event.

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